


Marital Habits

by frostybutt



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cuckolding, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Married Life, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Probably should clarify that, Teasing, a gross married bickering couple, bottom!Percival, inappropriate use of wandless magic, percival and newt are married in this one, top!newt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 00:47:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13493313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostybutt/pseuds/frostybutt
Summary: Newt and Percival are a gross, bickering married couple. Or: Newt knows exactly how to get what he wants.





	Marital Habits

Newt makes a small sound and turns in his sleep, reaching over to find the other half of the bed abandoned. Cold.

That wasn't quite right.

He blinks slowly into consciousness and groans again when he sees a flicker of light break through the partially closed door. That bastard.

 

Pushing himself out of bed and onto his feet, Newt shuffles barefoot over the cold wooden planks of their shared bedroom toward the source of the light. The sleep ridden frown only deepens when he blinks against the lit fireplace in his husbands study and finds the culprit sitting hunched over a stack of paperwork.

 

There's no indication that Percival noticed Newt standing in the doorway based on the drawn out silence that expands between them, with Newt glaring daggers into his spouses creased forehead while he keeps on working unbothered by it. Not until Percival speaks up, that is.

 

"I'll be there in a minute," he says so nonchalantly without looking up from his work that it makes Newt squint and take a step closer into the room.

 

"You said that four hours ago."

 

"Hm."

 

Another step.

 

"I reckon you also said you wouldn't bring any more work home with you."

 

At least _something_ in Newt's tone makes Percival pause and look up over the rim of his glasses to meet his gaze.

 

"Honey," he starts with a small exasperated huff and immediately regrets the choice of pet name at the sight of his spouses increasing displeasure.

 

Even married, Newt would still refuse to hold eye contact longer than necessary. Unless they were intimate, or for worse, he was cross with him. Percival quickly lowers his gaze back onto the parchment in front of him.

Blinking against the blurring lines of ink was still better than facing the disappointment and anger in Newt's face.

 

"I think it's hardly a matter to argue over since we _live_ with your work." He adds in a hushed tone and is again met by thick silence.

 

As if to prove his point, Newt's latest rescue, an old black Kneazle, jumps up into Percival's lap to loudly demand attention. Even with his gaze averted, Percival can still feel Newt staring him down as he lazily starts to scratch the cat like creature behind the ear.

 

" _Percival Bréanainn Scamander!_ "

 

The sharp tone makes Percival jolt and blink up once more, expecting to see a ready to explode Newt, which was a horrifying picture in itself. Blessed be the ones that never experienced his spouse irritated enough to snap.

Only to find his husband hunched over the desk, almost uncomfortably close with his palms planted firmly on either side of the desk and a lazy smile curling up the corners of his lips.

 

"Put the quill down."

 

Percival swallows dryly and lowers the quill neatly next to the inkwell. Newt doesn't follow the movement with his eyes, instead keeping them locked with Percival's and smiling just a little wider as he complies like the good boy he trained him to be.

 

It took Newt a good while of trial and error into their relationship to find just the right intonation and body language to make Percival comply. But the result was absolutely worth the defiant snarls and petty arguments that would follow inevitably whenever he'd cross a line.

 

"Newt. I can't- Theseus needs these back by tomorrow." Percival tries to reason but shuts up the moment Newt leans even further forward, something remotely predatory in his usually soft green eyes.

 

"Fuck Theseus."

 

Percival snorts a small laughter and doesn't protest further as Newt goes on to remove his reading glasses to set them aside carefully.

 

"I'll have a stern word with him in the morning." Newt croons the words as he sits down on the edge of the table, something Percival would usually protest against, but not in his current compliant state with his eyes closed and his cheeks cradled between Newt's hands.

His thumbs start to massage small circles around his temples and he can almost watch the tension trickle out of the older man's muscles.

 

"Hm...I'd like to see that." Percival replies with a small smile and sighs as Newt trails his fingertips lightly down the sides of his neck. The Kneazle in his lap is long forgotten and retreats off into a corner by the fireplace to sulk.

 

"I'm afraid you'll be indisposed tomorrow, Mister Scamander."

 

When Percival opens an eye to give his lover a questioning look, he swallows again and feels a telling blush rise to his cheeks. By now Newt had crawled completely onto the table top, never mind the important files crumpling under his knees. Sometimes Percival wondered how Newt managed to move so quiet and stealthy, but right now his thoughts were occupied with something entirely less trivial.

 

He's greeted by the sight of bare freckled skin peeking through a gap in loosely hanging fabric. Newt's nightshirt; which was really just one of Percival's old dress shirts, missed the top two buttons for quite some time now, an issue neither of them ever bothered to fix and Percival not so secretly appreciated. Especially with Newt hovering so close, his lips just inches away from Percival's ear as he tilts his head to the side.

 

“Come to bed.”

 

He can feel Percival shudder beneath him, knows he's sorely tempted to take what's so blatantly offered, but there's still something holding him back. So much that he clenches his hands tightly around the armrests of his chair in response to warm breath fanning past sensitive skin. It's both frustrating and tragic to watch him struggle so hard with himself.

 

“Thes' is going to kill me if I don't wrap these reports up by tomorrow.”

 

“Perce,” Newt sighs and kisses his cheek tenderly. “You're not in charge anymore. Let others take some of your work from you.”

 

With their marriage, Percival had given up more than just his bachelor life. He decided to give up his position as Director of Magical Security, along with his old identity. After the Grindelwald incident, Percival wanted nothing more than rid himself of his previous life in New York and submit to a simpler life as Auror in England, working alongside Theseus in the Ministry of Magic.

But the transition didn't go as smoothly as either of them had hoped.

 

Percival remained restless in the weeks that followed after their move, often taking over more cases than necessary and ending up overworking himself to the point of complete mental and physical exhaustion. Thankfully Newt quickly figured out a way to break the cycle, by discovering a delightfully submissive side to his partner.

 

The grip around Percival's throat tightens just a smidge when he still refuses to move from his chair, forcing him to look up. Newt can feel Percival tense under his grasp but he doesn't ease up, only giving him a lopsided smirk.

 

“Be a good boy for me now, Percival.”

 

Something in Percival clicks and all the tension increases momentarily with a whimper, making him sit straight with intent focus. Watching, waiting. Newt rewards him with a scrape of teeth along the length of his neck, biting down just enough to earn another, even more delectable whine.

 

His hands guide Percival's head to tilt and he follows without protest, melting against his palm as Newt's tongue soothes the fresh mark.

 

“That's it. Let me take care of you, darling.”

 

All it takes is a murmured spell and simple flick of his wrist to wrangle the last bit of defiance out of Percival. A pair of ghostly hands snake their way beneath the restricting fabric of Percival's pristine suit pants, kneading into the firm muscle of his inner thighs.

 

“Sweet Morgana, that- ah! That's just not fair.”

 

Newt hums indifferently and only increases the pressure on the intrusive hands, allowing them to move up toward his crotch. The strangled noise he earns in response is absolutely gorgeous.

 

“ _You_ were the one to teach me that particular spell on our honeymoon, I believe.” He smiles wider as he watches his spouse come undone under his touch. “Of course I'm going to use it against you.”

 

“Oh for fuck's sake-”

 

Before Percival can finish his sentence, Newt slides swiftly off the table and onto his lap, muffling the rest of it in a kiss that is more teeth and tongue than anything proper. He parts enough to allow them to breathe, or in Percival's case, pant rapidly through glistening swollen lips. There is absolutely no doubt that Percival is at full hardness by this point, if the way he squirms and ruts up against Newt's bare bottom wasn't enough of a blunt giveaway.

But he was still way too coherent for Newt's taste.

 

Newt wills the hands to separate, letting one build a steady rhythm to tease his lovers cock while the other forces Percival's thighs to spread further.

 

“Remember that night in New Orleans, back in '28?” Newt purrs and swallows a moan from his lovers lips as he deliberately grinds down against him.

 

“I- _ah..._ What?” Percival's voice fades into keening moans as he rolls his hips to chase the friction the phantom fingers offer him, but it's not enough. “How mh- how could I possibly forget? We almost died 'cause of you.”

 

Newt has the audacity to laugh at that. And if Percival was a little more in his right mind and not so infatuated with the sound of it, he'd probably buck the smug bastard off right then and there.

 

But that thought is wiped away as soon as he feels one of those damned fingers circle his entrance curiously, making him squirm and cry out at the sudden rough intrusion that follows promptly.

 

“We also had our first snog then in that dingy apartment. You looked so gorgeous in your torn coat...Backed into the wall, _begging_ me to fuck you with my brother and a team of Aurors next door.” Newt muses from his position, looking decidedly disinterested.

 

There is something particularly infuriating about the way Newt appears to be unaffected by all of this tedious teasing. Judging by his calm tone and the way he observes every little spasm with a kind of scientific interest while Percival's patience crumbles more and more by the second with muffled groans under nothing more than a touch of magic.

 

If it wasn't for the very obvious erection pressing against his stomach with each dragging roll of Newt's hip, he would think of it as a sadistic new torture method his husband developed to perfection.

Interestingly enough, noticing that little detail through his aroused daze is enough to snap Percival out of it long enough to grasp Newt's waist to steady him and thrust up.

Hard.

 

Newt's surprised yelp melts into a breathy chuckle against Percival's lips, his arms coming up to wrap around broad shoulders. “Eager all of a sudden, darling?”

 

The look Percival shoots him would be considered frightening under normal circumstances, if it wasn't for the brightly flushing red cheeks and fucked out look in those big brown eyes glaring daggers into the man straddling his very hard cock.

 

“Newt. If I don't have your dick inside me within the next thirty seconds, _so help me_ -”

 

“Say please.”

 

Percival already opens his mouth to snarl something of the polar opposite, when the phantom limbs bend and curl inside him under Newt's will, hitting his prostate relentlessly as they scissor him open. His head hits the backrest of his chair with a loud thud as he cries out.

 

“ _Please!_ Please, for the love of-”

 

“Almost.” Newt hums and finally takes pity on him, vanishing both the phantom hands and Percival's precum soaked suit pants with a practiced spell. Percival blinks up at him with glossed over eyes, utterly lost in his painfully aroused state. “Ask properly, darling.”

 

The words linger thickly between them with Percival sighing beneath him, held back by nothing but his pride.

 

“ _Fuck me_ , Newt. Please. Let me cum on your cock, I need...”

 

The rest of his plead is knocked out of him in a quick whirl as Newt Apparates them back to bed, locking him down beneath him with a victorious smirk.

 

“That wasn't so hard, was it?” He offers cheerful and positions himself between Percival's thighs, laughing warmly at the swat against his chest he earns in response.

 

“Awful,” Percival replies wryly and huffs when Newt takes his sweet time to Accio the oil over from the nightstand to slick himself up leisurely. “You're lucky I tolerate you, Scamander.”

 

Newt gives him a brilliant smile and leans down to kiss him gently. That awful kind of kiss that makes it impossible to hold grudges, especially with Newt finally pressing into him with a soft sigh, making them both breathless until they're pressed flush against each other.

 

They spend a long moment like this.

Quiet, except for their rapid breathing and shared quiet laughter between tender kisses. The urgency of it all suddenly minor compared to the need of sheer intimacy.

 

And when Newt finally starts to move, it's without haste. Setting a pace slow enough to leave Percival begging for more after the previous torture, legs clenched firmly around Newt's waist to urge him on.

Faster.

Harder.

 

It's only when Newt shoves Percival on his side, pressing his face into the sheets with his leg propped over his shoulder to thrust forcefully into him that Percival even forgets his name. He comes at Newt's command, crying out and helplessly rutting the sheets with Newt milking his own orgasm through slowing thrusts.

 

 

 

 

Needless to say, neither of them make it to work on time the next morning.   


 

**Author's Note:**

> This took longer than I care to admit and might turn into a fun little side series of their married life, featuring the tortured in-law having to deal with these two.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed :')


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